Acts of Passion
by gilmorefanforever
Summary: She remembered the night in slow motion, despite how quickly it had happened. Temperance Brennan, from Booth's alleged death to his funeral.


Acts of Passion

**Rating: **K+

**Disclaimer: **Bones belongs to Fox, Hart Hanson, you know, all those irritating people that won't get Booth and Brennan together... In my head I _do_ own David Boreanaz, however.

You're not seeing things! I am really stepping into a new fandom, well, attempting to at least.

This one's for Dreana, because, although I didn't tell her about it, she was the biggest help in writing this piece.

**-- **

She remembered the night in slow motion, despite how quickly it had all happened.

Her friends had pushed her onto the stage, and the familiar opening notes of "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" had sounded through the bar. It was the most ridiculous things she had ever done, by far. At the sight of her partners shocked face, she had resisted the urge to laugh, and enthusiastically jumped around to the song, putting on a show, as much as she would deny it later, solely for him. Booth's face had gradually broken into a large smile, and the two focused only on each other, entirely oblivious to what would happen in mere moments.

No one had known what Pamela Nunan was capable of. In fact, with the solving of the case, she had been pushed out of everyone's memory, just another suspect to note in the report. At the sound of his name, Booth had turned, and her face didn't even register in his mind. All that he noticed was the gun she aimed at his partner. He jumped up, straight into the line of of fire, and as a sharp pain filled his chest, his legs collapsed from under him.

The music abruptly stopped and Brennan leaped off the stage, rushing to her fallen partner. He needed to get up. Why wasn't he getting up? How was she supposed to tell him he was an idiot with a superhero complex if he didn't get up?

When she saw Pam's face, the gun still held up in front of it, she had snapped, grabbing the weapon that lay at Booth's side and pulling the trigger. No matter how many arguments there were against her being allowed a gun, when it came down to it, Temperance Brennan was a good shot, and the bullet slammed into Pam's neck, surely killing her instantly. If the fact that Brennan had taken a human life were ever brought to court, it could be said that it had purely been in self defense. But, in reality, the only thought that she had had at the time was "She shot Booth".

Somewhere from behind her, someone called for an ambulance. They needed to hurry. Despite Brennan's pleas and the pressure she applied to the wound, Booth was slipping out of consciousness, his heart rate beginning to slow. She pushed down harder, begging him to hold on. For Parker. For the FBI. For _her_. He couldn't leave her. Not yet. There was so much she had never said, so much she had never done.

**-**

They wouldn't let her ride with him to the hospital. Only immediate family could do that, they told her. "I'm his partner!" she protested, but they ignored her, loading him onto a stretcher. As the doors to the ambulance closed, it suddenly hit her that she may have just saw Seeley Booth for the last time. Angela came up behind her sympathetically, promising that she would drive her to wherever Booth was being taken.

The second she walked through the hospital doors, Brennan charged at the first person in scrubs she saw, demanding for information on her partner. Her blood soaked clothes were noticed wearily by the doctor, and he suggested that she change and calm down. She suggested that he do something a little less appropriate. Both suggestions went ignored, and before she could get violent, Angela more or less pushed her into a chair. And for the first time in a long time, Brennan broke down, sobbing in the middle of the waiting room and not caring who saw.

It had been obvious right away. She had looked up eagerly when the doctor came out, saying Booth's name, but at the sight of the doctor's expression, all hope had disappeared. She braced herself for the words she knew were coming, but it did nothing to numb the pain when she heard them.

"We did everything we could."

She couldn't stay in the hospital for another second, and, without a word, marched out, not even bothering to wait for Angela.

**-**

The door to her apartment slammed shut with a bang loud enough to wake the neighbors, but Brennan didn't care. She couldn't rip her clothes off fast enough, and she teared off her shirt, which was carelessly tossed aside. Her pants proved to be more difficult, but she blindly pulled them down, needing to be rid of the blood soaked garments. She stood naked, breathing heavily, in her apartment for almost a full minute before rushing to the bathroom and throwing up, then turning her shower up to the hottest setting and stepping inside.

It wasn't fair, she thought. It wasn't fair that Booth was dead. He was a good man, he helped people. He was the last person that deserved to die. Red water, stained with his blood, pooled around her feet, and her tears began to mix with the water streaming down on top of her.

First her parents, then Russ, and now Booth. People always leave.

**-**

When she arrived at work the next day, several jaws dropped. They had obviously not expected that she would come. She grabbed a stack of files that were sitting near the examination table and announced that she had paper work to do, fleeing to her office. Memories of Thai food and coffee flooded to her when she sat down at her desk, and her head fell into her hands as the tears came again. She regained her composure and flipped open the first folder.

Her heart broke again when she noticed it was a list of evidence compiled on her and Booth's last case together. She threw the file, along with the others, off her desk and got out her computer, needing to find something productive that didn't remind her of her partner.

Several drafts of a chapter for her next novel were written and then promptly deleted. She knew her editor would have a heart attack if she ever saw them, as the majority featured Agent Andy Lister dying right in front of Kathy, who could do nothing to save him. Finally declaring the effort useless, she shut the computer down, a knock suddenly coming from her door.

"Bren?" Angela called, entering the office timidly. It was impossible for Angela to miss the dried tear trails on her best friend's cheeks, and she gestured to someone out in the hallway. "I think there's someone you need to talk to." Confusion crossed Brennan's face, but it was quickly replaced by frustration as Dr. Lance Sweets appeared in front of her. _They had called a psychiatrist. _More importantly, they had called the _kid_, Booth's voice said in her head. She bitterly turned away from him as Angela sneaked out of the room, hoping Sweets could talk some sense into her friend.

Sweets began a speech about the five stages of grief and various ways people mourned, only to be cut by Brennan asking him to leave her office. He seemed surprised by her request. "Dr. Brennan, I realize this is difficult for you. But your partner took a bullet for you! It's probably having a deep psychological effect on you." She calmly explained that she didn't believe in psychology and once again suggested that he leave her office. The young therapist stared at her for a moment, almost as if he were studying her, then did as she asked.

When he was gone, Brennan repeated the words that he had said that now stuck in her mind. She had never thought to put it that way before.

"He took a bullet for me."

**-**

In the next two weeks, Brennan left the Jeffersonian exactly five times, and those were only because she was forced by Angela. She slept on the couch in her office and ordered take-out. Never once was that take-out Thai food.

Remains were spread out to be examined almost twenty-four seven, and more bodies were identified in that two week period than ever before. Grief and fatigue should have taken away from Brennan's skill at her job, but they did the opposte as she threw herself into her work, desperate to forget.

**-**

She refused to go to his funeral. Saying goodbye would do nothing more than acknowlege the fact that he was gone. It was only because of Angela's comment about needing her best friend that she went along with them to the cemetary. But she swore to herself that she would not cry again.

God had never existed in her mind before, but now she had another fact to prove her point. Any merciful god would have let the bullet hit its intended target, instead of making a group of people stand around a hole in the ground saying that Booth had made the ultimate sacrifice by making sure it didn't.

The lineup of soldiers began their standard salute to the dead, and suddenly one of them rushed forward to attack a man lurking by the trees, knocking the top off the casket and revealing a mannequin in the process. Despite her confusion over seeing a man whose eulogy she had just heard standing feet away from her, Brennan rushed to his aid, grabbing the leg from the "corpse" and hitting the lurker with it.

She looked up to the soldier and it was confirmed. Standing in front of her was a smiling, and very much alive, Seeley Booth, who was quick to congratulate her on her "nice shot". She knew that seeing that her partner wasn't dead should have brought a mixture of feelings to her: relief, happiness, maybe even confusion. But instead it brought pure anger. Anger that she had been lied to. Anger that she had cried unnecessary tears over him.

Without a thought, the anger took over, and her fist collided with his jaw.

**--**

And so concludes my first Bones fic. Did you like it? Should I try more in this fandom? Should I just keep my butt over in the Gilmore Girls world where it belongs? Please let me know.

In case I was being to subtle, that was me begging you to review.


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